


If

by hatokii



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 07:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatokii/pseuds/hatokii
Summary: Something is missing from Kasumi's life and she's determined to find out what it is. When she meets shut-in and absentee student, Arisa Ichigaya, she begins to feel like she might have found that missing something.





	1. Kasumi

“Toyama-san, do you have a second?”

Kasumi Toyama looked up from her lunch, a tomato clenched between two chopsticks already halfway to her mouth, to see the class representative for 2-C standing in the doorway. The class rep was beckoning towards Kasumi, her fingers curling like they were turning a handle as she waved her over. Kasumi rested her chopsticks back inside her lunchbox and stood up.

“Sorry you guys, I’ll be right back.” Kasumi apologised. She was eating lunch with her friends in the middle of the classroom. They had pushed their desks up against one another at the beginning of break, and she hated having to leave the sanctuary of their small haven. Kasumi looked longingly at her lunch as she joined the class rep out in the hallway.

As the class rep was talking to her, Kasumi found it difficult to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth. The midday sun was streaming through the hallway windows, lighting up the dust floating idly by like embers around a hearth. Kasumi was listening, or at least she was trying to listen, but the information was going in one ear and out the other. The problem was the noon-time sun that was hitting Kasumi square in the face; it’s warmth was making her sleepy.

“Are you listening?” The class rep crossed her arms in annoyance.

Kasumi snapped back to attention, “Sorry, sorry. I just get so sleepy around lunch time, you know.”

The class rep sighed and Kasumi immediately felt a seed of guilt bloom in her chest. At the start of the year she had been elected the class representative for 2-A, mostly because no-one else wanted to do it and Kasumi thought that it might be kind of fun. This was a decision she came to regret once the real work began. Collecting and distributing surveys, moderating class discussions, meeting with the other class reps once a week; there was so much more to the role than Kasumi had originally thought. She found herself making mistakes constantly, and who was there to pick up the slack for her? The class rep from 2-C. Kasumi felt she had only been a burden to the other representatives so far and even in something as simple as a conversation, Kasumi was yet again letting her fellow representative down.

“Listen,” The class rep fixed Kasumi with a stony glare. “This is a serious matter, so I need your full attention. Ok?”

“Ok.” Kasumi nodded vigorously in reply.

“I need you to deliver some catch-up work to an absent student. I would go myself but it’s kind of out of the way of my commute home.” The class rep explained. “I asked 2-B and 2-D as well but they’re both busy tonight. Is this anywhere near you?”

The class rep held out a torn sheet of notepaper to Kasumi. An address had been hastily scribbled on it. Kasumi looked it over and then tried to think of where it would be in relation to her house. It wasn’t close by, but it wasn’t ridiculously out of the way either. Although it felt like this task had been dumped on Kasumi by default, she finally had a chance to prove herself as a competent class representative in her own right.

“Yep, this is nearby. I can drop off the work for you, no problem.” Kasumi said.

The class rep deflated as though all the tension had been released from her body. “Thank God, I was seriously worried this wouldn’t get done tonight and then I’d have to- never mind. The student is called Arisa Ichigaya. I wrote her name on the front of the file though, in case you forget.”

She handed a clear file filled with paper to Kasumi. There was work from across several different subjects stuffed in there, pages and pages of it. Kasumi frowned. Just how long had Arisa Ichigaya been absent for? Kasumi stared at the purple star post-it note tacked onto the front of the file, trying to figure out what kind of person this student was from the kanji written on it.

“Well, I’ll leave it to you then. Thanks, Kasumi.” The class rep waved a hand lazily in farewell and then disappeared down the hallway.

Kasumi returned to her seat, staring at the file in her hand. Her friends Saaya and Rimi were watching Kasumi weave back towards them. They didn’t seem to have moved an inch since she left. As she re-joined the group, they suddenly became animated again.

“Is everything ok?” Rimi asked.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?” Saaya said, smiling to let Kasumi know she wasn’t entirely serious.

“Saaya, you’re so mean. No, everything’s fine, I just have an errand to run for 2-C after school.” Kasumi placed the clear file full of work on her desk. “I’m supposed to deliver this to Arisa Ichigaya.”

“Arisa Ichigaya?” Rimi leant her cheek into her palm, looking up to the ceiling as she mulled the name over. “I’m not sure I know who that is.”

“I think I know.” Saaya piped up. “Arisa Ichigaya… yeah, I’m certain it’s her.”

“Who is she?” Kasumi asked, her eyes wide in expectation.

“Have you ever checked the league boards for national exams they post near the entrance? Her name is always near the top of the rankings. I remember hearing some girls from 2-C talking though and the girl never comes to school apparently. That might be why neither of you know who she is.”

“She’s never here but she aces her exams anyway?! Uwaah, that’s so unfair… I wish I was that smart.” Kasumi sunk back into her seat, slouching so her body slipped towards the floor.

“I wonder why she doesn’t come to school. Do you think she’s ill?” Rimi looked over at Saaya. Saaya was beginning to pack away her lunch and tipped her head in response.

“Who knows? Whatever the reason is, I don’t think it’s our business to speculate.” Saaya stood up abruptly and began to move her desk back to its original position. “You should hurry up and eat Kasumi. Class starts in five minutes.”

“What?” Kasumi jerked her head to look at the clock on the wall. “Oh no, there’s no time at all! I’m still so hungry, I bet I’m gonna fall asleep in class again.” Kasumi shoved the clear file inside her desk and began to wolf down the remainder of her lunch, momentarily forgetting all about Arisa Ichigaya.

*

Just as she had foretold Kasumi found it increasingly difficult to stay awake during her afternoon classes. She wasn’t good at maths or science on the best of days, but after a rushed lunch and a particularly warm afternoon it felt like all of the facts and figures were turning to mush in her brain. When the teacher turned their back to write on the board Kasumi would prop her textbook up on her desk and then duck behind the hastily created cover. Here she could rest her eyes for a few moments without incurring the wrath of her teachers. She employed this strategy throughout the afternoon and reached the end of the day without getting into trouble. If you had asked her what had been covered in class that day, however, she would have drawn a complete blank.

“Saaya!” Kasumi bounced over to Saaya’s desk as their last class came to a close. Saaya was busy scribbling in her notebook, annotating diagrams and highlighting lines in yellow and green. Kasumi was amazed at the amount of information crammed onto that A4 piece of paper. She didn’t quite believe that this was the result of a one hour lesson.

“What’s up, how did you find class?”

“Hehe, well, you know…” Kasumi tilted her head and smiled. She was gripping her own notebook close to her chest and now held it out towards Saaya warily. “Actually, about that, I was wondering…”

“You want to borrow my notes, right?” Saaya sighed but held her notebook out for Kasumi to take. “I’ll let it go this time but you need to start paying attention in class. You can’t just rely on other people’s notes all the time.”

“I know, I know. Thanks, Saaya!” Kasumi sat down in the empty seat beside her and began copying the notes into her own book. She was trying to write them down as quickly as possible so she wasn’t taking the time to look them over properly. Kasumi knew she would be in trouble when she was reviewing it later. Once she was done she snapped her notebook shut and stretched her arms in a wide arc above her head. “All done. I really feel like I learned a lot.”

“I’m sure you did.” Saaya took her notebook back from Kasumi and slipped it into her bag. “I know you have that errand to run today, but do you want to head out together?”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that.” Kasumi exclaimed, then tried to backpedal when she saw Saaya shaking her head in dismay. “I mean, I didn’t forget it really, it just wasn’t… something I was thinking about… Where’s Rimi?”

Kasumi tried to change the subject to escape the scathing judgement Saaya was imparting. It worked; Saaya replied, “I think she already went on ahead.”

Kasumi and Saaya walked through the courtyard of Hanasakigawa Girls’ High School, basking in the late May weather. The temperature was climbing daily but the humidity of summer was still a distant whisper. The promising flavour of months of heat and rain and blazing skies stretching beyond the city limits held this time on the precipice of the shifting seasons. Spring would soon be over and the summer promised to be incredible, or so Kasumi thought. She was optimistic about these kinds of things. As soon as the school year had started in April, Kasumi had had high hopes that something exciting would happen during her second year in high school. The first year had been a lot of fun. She’d made good friends in her class, and every day was genuinely fulfilling for her, but it had always felt like something was missing from it all. Kasumi had tried to put this ‘something’ into words any number of times but she lacked the vocabulary to make it as corporeal as the incessant beating of her thrill-seeking heart demanded. She needed something to get her out of the rut her life had fallen into. Her life was fine, it really was; she was content… but how long could she pretend she was ok with just ‘content’?

Under the veil of the nurturing sun Kasumi and Saaya walked side-by-side beneath heaving zelkova trees, their slim branches full of emerald leaves dancing shadows across the pavement. Together the two girls talked about school, and about the Yamabuki Bakery, and about their plans for the weekend. They dawdled along, dragging their feet and taking in the beautiful day they had been blessed with. Then, suddenly, they came to a corner and parted ways. Saaya turned right, heading home. Kasumi waved her off and then stood there for a moment. Alone. She let out a rare sigh and continued walking.

Kasumi fished out Arisa Ichigaya’s address from her bag and stared at the paper as she navigated the road home. She had a pretty good idea of where she was going, but she wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost. After working together with the representatives from the other classes for a little over a month she finally had been entrusted with a task that only she could do. This was her chance to prove that even Kasumi Toyama could be responsible sometimes!

As she continued walking the streets began to change. They became deserted as Hanasakigawa students spilled off down different roads. Kasumi walked along the path beside the river and watched the water flowing next to her. She sped up and slowed down in an attempt to match its pace, but the two of them could never quite fall in step with one another. After a while Kasumi grew bored of this game and continued on as normal, heading for Arisa Ichigaya’s Home.

Once again Kasumi took out the clear file full of work and stared at the kanji in Arisa’s name. What kind of person was she? They weren’t in the same class, so it wasn’t surprising Kasumi didn’t know who she was, but it was difficult for her to comprehend why someone wouldn’t want to come to school. Sure, studying was hard, and sometimes teachers were too strict, and the lessons were too long, but school was where Kasumi could see her friends. If anything, it was the thought of getting to spend a day with Saaya and Rimi that got Kasumi out of bed in the mornings.

The more Kasumi thought about it, the more taken she was with the mystery of Arisa Ichigaya. She wanted to know everything about her absentee classmate. Kasumi was busy plotting a way to befriend Arisa when she spotted something shining at her from across the road. On the opposite side of the street, laying forlorn and defeated on the ground, was something small and golden. Kasumi took a moment to look for oncoming traffic then ran across to retrieve whatever it was. It was small, and close up Kasumi could see it was a golden star, its edges weathered and torn. She stood up and looked around, wondering where it had come from, when she saw another similar star on the railing beside the road. She ran over to it and held out her hand to compare the two. No doubt about it, they were the same. When she looked again Kasumi found another star, and then another.

The stars were arranged into a haphazard trail, changing surfaces from railings to walls to lampposts and back again. Kasumi followed the golden road of stars, her smile growing wider every time she found a new sticker. Around corners and down side roads, Kasumi was consumed by this new game. She wanted to reach the end as fast as possible. There must be something waiting for her there, something exciting. Her pace quickened until she was full-on running, energy exploding with every step. Eventually, the number of stars began to dwindle until she lost track of them completely. 

“Oh no.” Kasumi said, spinning to look at her surroundings. “Oh no, where am I?”

In her enthusiasm to follow the stars to wherever they may lead Kasumi had completely forgotten about her original mission. She fumbled into her pocket and pulled out the piece of paper with Arisa’s address on it. She studied it carefully then looked around. By chance Kasumi had found herself closer to Arisa’s house than she had originally been. She began walking again, and as she corrected her direction towards the address in hand Kasumi noticed the stars were cropping up beside her once more. As much as she wanted to follow them she resisted the urge and continued on her errand. She was able to ignore them for a while, focusing on her route instead, but the stars seemed to be multiplying alongside her. They were following her, tracing her path exactly. In fact, they continued to follow Kasumi almost right up to Arisa’s door, but just before reaching the address the stars abruptly disappeared. Kasumi paused to see where they had gone. The stars had turned down a small alleyway. She peered into the gloom to see the stickers twinkling like a night sky and it took every inch of strength for Kasumi to pull herself away from that isolated galaxy. She walked on past and with the stars out of her vision she returned her focus to the task at hand.

Kasumi reached Arisa Ichigaya’s and found herself greeted with a gate and an intercom. Taking a deep breath, Kasumi pushed a button on a small, black box and waited. There was no response. She waited a while longer then tried again. Still, no-one came. Unsure of what to do Kasumi called over the gate.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” She shouted.

It was quiet down that little road where Kasumi was standing. She couldn’t hear a sound aside from the echo of her own voice and a car passing by in the distance. She wondered what she should do. There was no way she could go home without delivering the homework properly. This was one task Kasumi had been confident she would have been able to complete, and yet here she was, close to failure in spite of her self-belief. 

There was also the question of Kasumi’s burgeoning quest to uncover the secrets of Arisa Ichigaya. Was that, too, to be dashed when it had barely begun? These thoughts were circling in Kasumi’s brain in a way that distracted her completely from the present. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t realise someone had opened the gate until they spoke to her.

“Hello? Sorry for the delay, I was over in the shop… how can I help you?”

Kasumi looked up to see an elderly woman standing in front of her. She had her silver hair pulled into a tight bun on top of her head and was smiling gently as she stood in the entranceway. Her mouth opened slightly as she got a proper look at Kasumi.

“Oh, you must be from Hanasakigawa! Are you a classmate of Arisa’s?” She asked.

“Yes, I am! Uh, hello, I’m Kasumi Toyama, I’m a representative for class 2-A.” She spluttered, the words coming thick and fast from her mouth. She was extremely nervous all of the sudden. “I’m not in Ichigaya-san’s class, but we’re in the same year, and I’m friends with her class representative so I…”

Kasumi choked suddenly and coughed into her hand. The old woman looked at her with concern.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I got a little over-excited.” Kasumi chuckled nervously. “I’m here to deliver some work for Ichigaya-san.”

Kasumi unzipped her school bag and pulled out the thick folder the 2-C representative had handed to her. She rifled through the papers one last time then, satisfied it was all in place, held it up for the old woman to see.

“This is everything. I don’t know if Ichigaya-san is around so I can hand it to her myself, or…” Kasumi was craning her neck to look into the yard behind the old woman. In the distance Kasumi could see a traditional-style house with a veranda winding around the side. Even from such a distance Kasumi could tell it was impeccably clean. There was a wind chime, bright red against the white panelling of the doors, hanging from the eaves of the outside walkway. The afternoon sun, dropping in the sky, glinted off of its glass exterior and winked at Kasumi. She found herself lost in thought once more.

The old woman looked behind her, then held up a hand to motion to Kasumi to wait there. She jogged back to the house and Kasumi caught excerpts of a conversation that could only be being held with the evasive Arisa Ichigaya. 

“...tell her I’m asleep, I don’t care. I don’t want to see her.” The other voice said.

“But she came all this way, you should at least thank her.” The old woman said. There was a pause then and something else was muttered too quietly for Kasumi to hear above a low buzz.

In the end the old woman came back to Kasumi alone, her face tired and tight.

“I’m sorry my dear, it seems Arisa is asleep at the moment.” The old woman sighed.

“Oh, ok, I see.” Kasumi held the file in her hands, looking down at Arisa’s name stuck onto the front. Her chest felt hollow. All the way to the house Kasumi had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, her heart had been beating like it hadn’t in a long time, and although she had succeeded in delivering the homework, she realised that more than anything she had wanted to meet Arisa. “That’s ok, sleep is super important, especially afternoon naps… Is it ok if I ask you to give this to her for me?”

Kasumi’s voice was flat as she handed over the file to the old woman. They stood there awkwardly for a moment before the old woman spoke up again.

“Thank you for coming all this way. I’m sure Arisa really appreciates it.” The old woman hesitated and then added, “I’m sorry she couldn’t come and greet you today, but if you come by our shop on Saturday, I’m sure you’ll be able to see her.”

“Shop?” Kasumi tipped her head to one side quizzically.

“Yes, back there and down the alley. It’s attached to the house - Ryuseido, we call it. It’s just a humble pawn shop but Arisa watches over it for me on the weekends sometimes.”

Kasumi’s eyes widened as she processed the old woman’s explanation. Her heart began to beat quicker. The stars were leading her to Arisa again. She had missed her this time but Kasumi wouldn’t let that happen again. She was determined to meet Arisa Ichigaya, no matter what it took.

With the mystery alive and tangibly in reach, Kasumi’s face erupted into a smile. “I’ll definitely come and visit! Definitely!” She said. “Thank you so much! Please let Arisa know I’ll come and say hi.”

The two of them exchanged pleasantries once more and then Kasumi said goodbye. She was smiling as she walked away, excited to play detective and to get to know someone new.

As Kasumi was about to turn down another street and bid farewell to Arisa’s house, she heard a piano refrain somewhere nearby. She stopped to listen. It was soft and slow, filled with pauses that fell heavily between keys. Although she knew nothing about music, Kasumi thought it sounded really sad. She listened to the end of the song and then stood waiting for more. No more music came however, and Kasumi pushed the strange, sad song to the back of her memory as she walked home, her head filled instead with stars and thoughts of Arisa Ichigaya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so thanks for reading!! i just wanted to make a few notes about this fic because i feel like both the description and tags are kind of vague haha. "if" takes place in the same universe but works on the premise of what would happen if poppin party had never formed. the name is taken from 'hachigatsu no if'; the song lyrics combined with me wanting to write about arisa as a shut-in are what inspired this fic! 
> 
> this is my first time trying to write something with multiple chapters but i'm excited to share this story with everyone! i might end up giving up halfway through but i'll do my best! thanks once again for reading, hopefully i'll see you at the next chapter haha~


	2. Arisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arisa has a stressful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter as it contains descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and vague mentions of bullying.

Despite being set for six am every morning, Arisa would never get up when her alarm clock went off. Even if it managed to wake her, Arisa would stay in bed as if she hadn’t heard it at all. The alarm would just keep ringing and ringing until it tired itself out, the sound often cutting out mid-ring. When it fell silent of its own accord Arisa would smirk from her hideout under the bed covers, secure in the fact she had won another battle in the ongoing feud with the rabbit-shaped alarm clock sitting on her desk. When she had first received it, the sight of the bright pink hunk of plastic had filled her with joy; Arisa used to be so gentle when she turned it off, too, never smacking it with her fist or trying to knock it off the desk with a well-aimed pillow, choosing to instead tread over carefully to push the off button herself. Over time, however, it had become a symbol of everything wrong with Arisa’s life, and now its round face, big eyes, and protruding little teeth mocked her. Once or twice Arisa had tried to throw it away but her grandmother would always fish it out of the garbage and place it back on her desk. Next time she could be bothered to make an attempt on its life Arisa would just smash it to pieces, she thought.

One morning in late May, Arisa woke up to silence. She rolled over and looked at her phone on the bedside table. It was a few minutes before six. With a sigh, Arisa turned over and pulled the covers high above her head to block out the sun that was filtering through her flimsy curtains. It was far too early and far too bright for Arisa to want to move. She laid there; her eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the familiar ring of the alarm clock to pierce through her sanctuary. Time passed by strangely under the covers. It felt like hours passed by as she waited for the alarm to go off. Stuck in that liminal space, the covers wrapped around every inch of her body, Arisa could only focus on how hot it was. As it got increasingly warmer Arisa’s annoyance at the alarm grew. She was waiting for it to start its morning ruckus, which she would dutifully ignore, then turn off in exasperation so that Arisa could free herself from her own balmy prison. The waiting continued, however, and no alarm sound came. Pinching the duvet between her thumb and forefinger, Arisa carefully peeled it back to look at her desk. The alarm clock sat there. Silent, unmoving, it’s obnoxious pink exterior shining. Mocking.

Groaning, Arisa pulled the covers back further. Her room was as warm as the space under the covers had been, despite it still being so early in the morning. It felt like someone was turning the thermostat up slowly and it made Arisa itch. The sensation of the cool floorboards as she padded over to her desk was a welcome change, providing a tether for Arisa in a room that was now starting to make her dizzy. She steadied herself by pressing her palms flat on the surface of her desk, the alarm clock sitting between her guarded arms. It was even more garish up front. The pink plastic was swollen, pulsating; it was gross. 

Arisa didn’t want to touch it, she thought, but her restless fingers picked it up for inspection anyway. The screen in the rabbit’s stomach that usually displayed the time was empty; just a grey screen reflecting the room back at Arisa. She pressed the ‘on’ button, holding it down for good measure, but when she released her finger nothing happened. She tried one more time. Still nothing. After a few more attempts with no result, Arisa flipped the clock over to pry open the panel on its back. She took out three batteries, wondering when she last replaced them. It was a long time ago, probably, when she still had Tae to remind her to change them. Arisa shakes her head and tosses the clock back onto the desk, its body hitting the wood with a thunk. She rolls the batteries to rest beside it then crawls back into bed.

At least now she can sleep undisturbed.

* * *

When Arisa woke again the sun had reached its apex in the sky, baking the landscape dry under its relentless heat. She woke up drenched in sweat, her bed covers dumped on the floor.

“It’s too goddamn hot.” Arisa said to no-one. She peeled herself from bed and reached up to throw open her window, hoping a cool breeze would roll in to cool down the room, but when she pulled back her curtains to let the air in, all she’s hit with was stagnant air dripping with humidity.

Arisa never wanted to move again if she could help it. She didn’t want to face a day that hot; she rarely wanted to face the day anyway, but with the sun out in full force like that the desire to stay indoors all day was stronger than ever. Arisa tried to lie down for a while but her room was too hot. She staggered out into the hallway, searching for a cooler spot to rest. Dragging her feet around the house, Arisa looks for her grandmother to complain to. Peeking into every room, however, all she finds is emptiness and a rattling old fan in the TV room. Unable to resist the childish impulse one feels when seeing a fan slowly rotating in place, Arisa knelt down in front of it and began to speak into the blades.

“Iiiiiit’s so hoooooot. Thiiiiis iiiiis heeeeeelllllll.” She droned, the sound coming back distorted and making Arisa smile. For a moment, Arisa feels light, but on the fan’s second rotation she just feels annoyed. She stands back up to return to her search.

After a thorough search of the premises Arisa concluded two facts. 1) her grandmother was out, and 2) the TV room was probably the coolest in the house at that moment. Having the house to herself was usually something to celebrate; it meant Arisa could do what she wanted without worrying about her grandmother asking if she was going to school that day. Although she meant well, her grandmother was keen for Arisa to return to school, and although Arisa was left to her own devices for the most part, her grandmother would pass by her room several times throughout the day to gaze at her with a face heavy with worry. It was hard to handle, seeing those eyes full of worry. Whether Arisa was lying on the floor eating snacks or studying in her room, the sensation would creep along Arisa’s spine as her grandmother stared at her, wrap itself around her neck, and pull tight til she couldn’t breathe. The ever-watchful eye of her overly caring grandmother was just too much.

So when she had the house to herself Arisa would usually rejoice. She could wander about and do her thing without fear of judgement. But that day, for some reason, she felt off. The huge empty spaces extended for miles around her, isolating Arisa in the centre of it. Surfaces seemed too shiny, the ceilings too high, and the garden beyond the window seemed to turn to wilderness. Nausea was bubbling up inside Arisa. She realised she hadn’t eaten yet.

There were leftovers in the kitchen from her grandmother’s breakfast; rice still warm in the rice cooker and grilled fish wrapped tight in cling film. Arisa removed the plastic wrap and heated up the fish. She ladled rice into the little ceramic bowl with lilacs clinging to the edges that she loved so much, picked up a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and took the modest meal with her into the TV room. She switched on the TV, flicking through channels as she ate. 

Daytime TV was essentially hell on Earth, full of endless talk shows with boring variety guests, talking about news Arisa had no interest in. She couldn’t sit and watch any one show for too long, so she changed channels every few minutes. One show she settled on was a run-of-the-mill talk show in the middle of a news segment about some beautiful park in some beautiful town in some far away prefecture that Arisa knew the name of but nothing else. She watched detachedly, chewing slowly as the fish weighed heavily on her tongue. It was delicious but the nausea she had felt earlier wasn’t subsiding at all. Arisa continued to eat anyways, hoping she would feel better once she had a full stomach.

As she was tackling her breakfast the talk show topic suddenly changed from gardens to cram schools. Arisa’s breath caught in her throat. The rolling background footage changed from a wide-open green dotted with blooming summer flowers to a cramped classroom full of rows and rows of students all writing endlessly in matching notebooks. The sound of the pens scratching against paper was removed from the clip but Arisa could imagine it all too well; being sat behind a desk, back straight, classmates to the right whispering and pointing, classmates to the left laughing, the desk in front covered in graffiti… Arisa shook her head and tried to focus on the reporter’s words. Lots of high school students were attending cram school, it seemed, but the sentences were scrambling together into nonsense. Is he really speaking Japanese, Arisa thought, unable to make sense of the report. The stock footage changed to a courtyard filled with students eating lunch. It was making Arisa feel sick; the combination of the clips with the too bright overlay, the droning voice of the presenter, the images of the school itself. 

Arisa turned the TV off quickly, grasping for the remote lying on the table and almost knocking it off in her scramble. She still had half a grilled fish to eat but Arisa wasn’t hungry anymore. The smell of the fish was slowly enveloping the room in an acidic ocean; not helping with Arisa’s churning stomach at all. It was overwhelming, she wanted water or something to provide her some relief, but she couldn’t move. She sat and let the sensations pricking at her skin pull on her consciousness. The heat was bathing her in sweat, the breakfast she just ate swimming up her gullet, the drone of the high-school stock footage an unending clip show behind her eyes. They played in parts, rolling together, in and out of focus. At first it was the generic uniform from the video, blazer and skirt and little blue bow, then it was beige, a dress, a red bow. It was a blue sailor uniform, the collar floating around the necks of its students like angel wings. It was the same uniform hanging in her wardrobe, untouched for months, the one that grew claws when looked at in the light, the one that dragged Arisa down, down, down. She was going down, her breakfast was coming up, it was a rush, too much, the heat made her trip. Arisa made it to the toilet just in time.

A glass of cold water later and Arisa returned to her room. She carried the little fan in tow and set it up beside her bed, angling it so that the air was blowing across her pillow. She laid down, still in her pajamas, eyes closed, trying to purge her brain of the images that battered her consciousness. As she cooled down, her heartrate dropped and the images faded out until they were just smudges on an iridescent background. It had passed. She was ok. All the same, Arisa stood her desk chair in front of her wardrobe doors and left it there for the rest of the day on guard.

Stomach empty, head swimming, Arisa wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She had a routine she liked to stick to but it had all been thrown away when the alarm hadn’t gone off that morning. Now it all felt wrong. Even when Arisa sat down to read, or went looking for her bonsai pruners, all she could feel was the fragility of the reality she was walking on, as though it would shatter at any moment. She kept veering towards the walls of her house. She could barely walk straight, so all she did was lie on her bed, music playing softly in the background, thinking.

Arisa’s grandmother came home around two. Emerging from the safety of her now well air-conditioned room, Arisa padded down the hallway to meet her grandmother in the kitchen. There were plastic bags lying open on the countertops, the handles flopping down dejectedly. Arisa peeked inside at a variety of vegetables waiting to be put away. There was also a tub of natto nestled amongst the greens that made Arisa recoil, even if it was safely contained behind a tightly sealed lid.

Arisa’s grandmother was busy beside her, sorting out the contents of a different bag, ferrying what she had brought from its temporary home to the dim insides of the cupboards or the welcoming cool of the fridge. Arisa followed suit. She handled the natto like toxic waste, only touching the container with her fingertips as she moved it to the cupboard. Her grandmother caught a glimpse of Arisa’s scrunched up nose and chuckled. The chuckle quickly turned to a sigh and Arisa flinched.

She had thought because it was so late in the day that she had safely avoided her grandmother’s pestering about school. Arisa was still feeling sick, unsure if she could handle a conversation like that at present. She took a deep breath as her grandmother cleared her throat.

“How was your day?” She asked.

Arisa blinked, maybe she had avoided it. Then she reminded herself that the conversation could still turn quickly towards her absence so she proceeded with caution. “It was ok. I haven’t been feeling great, though.”

Arisa’s grandmother turned to face Arisa. “Oh dear, what’s the matter?”

“I think it’s just ‘cuz it’s so warm. I’ll be ok.” Arisa assured her.

“Well, if you feel any worse, let me know.”

“Thanks, grandma.”

They continued unpacking side-by-side, silent now the conversation was over. Arisa gripped the handles of the new bag she was tackling to steady herself as she looked inside: cold bottles of hojicha, sugar, a box of the individually wrapped cookies that Arisa liked, rice crackers emblazoned with a bright yellow discount sticker. She had navigated the conversation without her absence being brought up… so why did she still feel guilt weighing on her chest like an anchor? She was being dragged to the bottom of the ocean, it felt like. Her grandmother hadn’t said anything, and in a way that was almost worse. Why were they dancing around it suddenly? It was sitting there with them, staring them in the face, the fact that Arisa hadn’t attended school in over a month. It was wedged firmly between Arisa and her grandmother. Arisa saw it as a mountain of textbooks, with shapeshifting covers; the stacks growing and shrinking without reason, but keeping their relationship at a distance all the same. She stared at the empty space in the middle of the kitchen floor. It would only take two steps to close that gap. Only two.

The kitchen faucet was leaking at perfect intervals in the background. Drip, drip, drip. The sound of the water splashing against the basin made Arisa wince. It was getting loud in their small kitchen. Arisa began to back away when she noticed a letter lying half-hidden amongst the grocery bags. It was from Hanasakigawa. Her grandmother was usually careful about hiding these letters from Arisa. Even when she was still trying to persuade Arisa to go to class she would never use correspondence from the school to guilt-trip her. Arisa was nosy, however, and had found these letters despite her grandmother’s best attempts to hide them. She knew they existed, she knew what they said, she knew the reality of the situation that was crashing down around them but still… it hurt to see it left out so carelessly like that. Maybe Arisa wasn’t the only one who had given up.

Her grandmother looked to Arisa, noticed her gaze, and moved to hide the letter with her body. Her mouth opened as though she wanted to speak, and then closed quickly. Her brow was furrowed as her eyes searched the kitchen floor. She was lost in thought for a moment, but brought her gaze back to address Arisa directly.

“Let’s have some tea.”

They sat in the TV room, kneeling on either side of the table where Arisa had tried to stomach breakfast earlier that day. Thank fully the smell of fish had dissipated, leaving only the scent of far-off zelkova trees to settle over the room like a fine layer of dust. Both of them had dripping glasses of cold hojicha resting in front of them, the glasses fogged up from the cool tea. As Arisa was about to take a sip, her grandmother clapped her hands together, startling her. Arisa almost knocked over her glass but managed to steady it before it went spilling everywhere. She looked up at her grandmother who was easing herself to her feet. She shuffled past Arisa and down the hall. Arisa watched her go curiously. When her grandmother returned she had a small bag in her hands.

“I almost forgot I bought these!” She exclaimed. “They’re fresh, too.”

Inside the bag were two small shapes wrapped in paper. The paper was covered in text, reading: “Yamabuki Bakery”. Back in middle school Arisa would stop by there almost every day after school with her friends. It had been her favourite store in the shopping district. Whilst yakisoba buns or melon pan from the convenience store would do in a pinch, it was difficult to beat the real thing. Arisa reached forward eagerly to fish out one of the shapes but her hand hesitated over the bag as though held at bay by an invisible force.

“Go ahead.” Her grandmother said.

Slowly, Arisa reached her hand inside and fished out one of the packages, unwrapping it to reveal a freshly baked red bean bun. The pastry on the outside was soft; Arisa left small indents on the surface as she gripped the bun in her hands. She ripped a piece off and was overcome by the nostalgic smell of the bread. It was as though she were standing back in the bakery after school, taking in the stocked shelves in delight. She bit into it and marvelled at how sweet the bread tasted, even before she got a bite of the red bean paste. She took another bite and her mouth filled with a familiar, comforting taste. It was sweet, of course, but it was the texture that Arisa loved the most. She was so content with eating that she almost forgot her grandmother was in the room with her.

“Is it good?” Her grandmother asked, watching Arisa intently.

Arisa quickly swallowed the mouthful of bread she had, coughing as it got momentarily stuck in her throat. “Yeah, it’s really good…”

Her sentence trailed off as Arisa looked at the half-eaten bun in her hands. Her chest was hollow. A light breeze from outside blew straight through her rib cage, rattling bones pricking at her skin. Even though her mouth was empty Arisa swallowed again. Her throat was drier than a piece of bread left to stale overnight. There were words clogged up in her mouth, unable to traverse the desert her tongue had become. Maybe it was the memory of the bakery, or the sudden chance to sit with her grandmother and chat like they used to; honestly, Arisa didn’t know, but she wanted to explain herself fully. She wanted to talk about what had happened at school, about the letters talking about her dwindling attendance, about why she didn’t talk to Tae anymore; she wanted to shed some light on how they had ended up at that point. She wanted to expose herself so badly that her heart ached, but when she tried to speak the words all crumbled and floated away. She lowered the bread to her lap.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, grandma.” Arisa said.

Her grandmother smiled widely. “You’re welcome. I remembered how much you liked that bakery and wanted to bring something home, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” She nodded as if confirming that her guess had been right. “I’m glad.”

They sat together in companionable if not awkward silence as they finished their buns and tea. Arisa kept her sight trained on a spot on the table the entire time, her cheeks burning. It always happened when people were nice to her, even if it was something as simple as a cashier smiling at her at the supermarket Arisa would find herself flushing bright red. It was embarrassing. Her grandmother buying her something from her favourite bakery though was a different feeling. It wasn’t mortification that sent her scarlet, no, it was that persistent guilt rearing its ugly head again.

When Arisa had drained the last drops of tea from her glass she finally took her eyes off of the table. Her grandmother was finished too, sitting back enjoying the breeze coming in from the open door. Arisa stood up and collected the leftover wrappers in the plastic bag then picked up the glasses to take to the kitchen. As she was washing them up her grandmother came into the room.

“Arisa, I don’t mean to be a bother, but I have a favour to ask…”

* * *

It had been sweltering inside so when Arisa stepped out into the early afternoon sun she was surprised to find that it was cooler outside than in. A breeze was sweeping across the day, rustling the trees in a collective sigh, content with the small relief from the tyrannical sun the wind provided. Although certainly cooler, Arisa was still hot. She resented that she had to change out of her pajamas just to go to the nearest convenience store, but her grandmother insisted that she get dressed for this errand. She said it would make Arisa feel a little better, too. Yet here she was, out in the sun, fully dressed, squinting as rogue rays of light blocked her vision, still feeling nauseous.

Dragging her feet, Arisa set off down the ten minute walk to the convenience store. Her clothes felt itchy and restrictive as she pushed her body through the humidity, tendrils wrapping around her legs to pull her back every step she took forwards. Sweat was forming along Arisa’s neckline and she wondered if wearing black was a good idea in what was essentially early summer weather. It was May, barely but it was still May, and Arisa resented the seasons changing ahead of the set schedule. To her it was easier to visualise them in their set three month reign rather than to get technical with dates that changed from year-to-year. It was easier to deal with the world if she could fit it into boxes like that. Right now it was May, May was spring, it was hotter than April but it had no business reaching June’s highs so early. If anything she found it to be quite impolite.

By the time Arisa reached the convenience store she was irritated. The back of her blouse was a sweaty mess, her long hair kept getting caught in her mouth, and the straps on her tote bag kept slipping down her shoulders every few seconds, meaning she had to grip them constantly to stop the whole thing falling to the floor. The familiar bell sounded off as the doors to the store slid open and one of the staff members called out in greeting, but Arisa ignored it all. She was savouring the front of cold air that had hit her when she came in. The air conditioner was on full blast, and with the blinds pulled down over the front windows, the convenience store had been turned into a shadowy oasis in the middle of the too hot day. Arisa only needed to pick up a bag of carrots but she was dreading the walk home so she took her time perusing each aisle; from the magazine stand, to the toiletries and beauty products, to the surprising selection of cup ramen arranged by colour, Arisa took her time looking over each item. 

Although not looking for anything in particular Arisa found herself looking at the packs of batteries at the end of one aisle. As she was staring at them she began to wonder what kind of batteries her alarm clock took. She tried to conjure Tae’s voice reminding her to change them but couldn’t get her tone right and so the words that would tell her what to get were lost. Arisa wasn’t sure if it was double or triple A so she grabbed a pack of each and carried them cradled in her arms to the register. She grabbed a bag of carrots on the way and piled them together on the counter. 

Arisa was busy fumbling for her coin purse and didn’t notice a group of high school girls entering the store. Not at first. It was only when they began to giggle that Arisa’s head whipped around to look at them. They were gathered by the magazines, backs to Arisa, talking and laughing and filling the whole space with their presence. Arisa took their uniforms in in an instant; blazers, not Hanasakigawa, then. They were dressed in grey and navy. They all had delicately arranged hairstyles and beautiful nails. She didn’t know them, but one of them looked a lot like one of her classmates, right down to the same brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail that had waved mockingly in front of Arisa’s face every day at school. Arisa knew she was staring now but couldn’t look away. The cashier was saying something to her but she couldn’t make the words out properly. The door chimed once, it chimed twice, it chimed three times. Someone coughed in the back. The metal cabinet keeping the nikuman warm hummed. A microwave pinged. Arisa stared. It was so noisy, too noisy, she could feel sweat dripping down her back. It was building to a crescendo, chimes overlaying coughs overlaying laughter overlaying crackling electricity until it all crashed down on Arisa as the girl in the high ponytail looked up to meet her gaze. The girl whispered something to her friends who glanced over and fell into a fit of giggles. They hit each other to shut up and moved further into the store, the girl with the high ponytail moving with them.

Suddenly it was silent. Arisa dropped the coins she had counted out into the cashier’s palm, grabbed her bag from the counter, and ran. She kept running all the way home, followed by phantom laughter. All she could think about was the girl who wasn’t her classmate staring at her. Their eyes were completely different but their gaze was the same. They didn’t see Arisa at all. She wasn’t there. Panicked, Arisa looked down at her hands, sure that she would be able to see through them to the pavement below. Her hands were there, they were fine, they still existed; she still existed.

It was hot and she found it difficult to breathe but Arisa kept running until she had sprinted past the finish line. She kicked off her shoes at the front door, threw the convenience store bag carelessly on the floor and disappeared into her room. She locked the door so her grandmother wouldn’t come in and collapsed to the floor, her breaths coming hard and fast. Each shudder tore through her nervous system and Arisa covered her mouth to stop herself crying out in pain. Her body was collapsing in on itself, all because of – what? Some girl in a convenience store? Get it together, Arisa Ichigaya, she thought. It was easy to berate herself like that in the middle of an attack but the reality was she was struggling to get her feelings under control. Her thoughts were chasing her pulse on a twisted road race without end. Her chest had collapsed in on itself, filling the previously hollow space with concrete. The floor was shaking underneath her from the velocity of her quivering body. She was losing it.

In the midst of her panic, Arisa began to crawl towards her bed, still left unmade from the morning. She clawed her way onto the mattress and drew the covers over her, curling into it so that the sheets wrapped around her body like a cocoon. It was hot under there but that was what she needed. She breathed in interrupted breaths, then released them in one sweep. In, then out, in, then out; focus only on the heat, only on the sensation of beads of sweat pooling on her skin, tracing out silent paths in the dips and hollows of her body. Slowly her thoughts reordered themselves and slowly Arisa emerged. She was ok. She was.

After the panic attack, Arisa felt exhausted. She sat on the edge of her bed, head in her hands, thinking about how she’d gotten to this point. There had been a time when she hadn’t even known what a panic attack was, not that long ago. She wanted to go back to those days when all she had to worry about was mid-term exams and piano recitals and keeping her room tidy. Now the weight of her worries was crushing her. Even though she was now relatively calm it was hard to ignore the fog that was enveloping her. It was difficult to see the other side. 

No, Arisa thought. No, I can’t let it get me like this.

She stood up and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She downed two cups in quick succession and was nursing another when her grandmother called to her from the hallway. Arisa put her glass down and went to see what she wanted. She hoped she wouldn’t be asked about her attack just then. She really hoped her grandmother hadn’t realised what had happened. 

When she got out into the hall Arisa realised it wasn’t about that immediately. Her grandmother looked nervous, but she was smiling. She looked over her shoulder as she spoke to Arisa and it was then she realised there was someone standing at the gate. Arisa couldn’t make out who it was but she could see the shadow of someone swaying there just out of view.

“There’s a girl from your school here to see you. She said her name was Kasumi Toyama.” Her grandmother said. “She has some catch-up work for you.”

Arisa’s brow furrowed. She didn’t know who that was. It wasn’t one of the girls from her class, so what was this stranger doing delivering her homework?

“I don’t want to see her.” Arisa said.

Arisa’s grandmother frowned. “Arisa… I can’t just tell her you don’t want to see her.”

“Then tell her I’m asleep, I don’t care. I don’t want to see her.”

“But she came all this way, you should at least thank her.”

Arisa stared at her grandmother. She was finding it hard to breathe again. Heat was rising in her face, attacking her eyes, making them sweat. Arisa blinked and looked away. “Grandma… please. I can’t… not today.”

There was silence. The wind chime on the veranda rattled in the breeze. Someone’s dog barked in a garden far away. Arisa’s grandmother reached out and took Arisa’s hand in hers. She looked up in surprise. Her grandmother smiled, a real smile, and mouthed ‘ok’. She disappeared to talk to the visitor. Arisa stood in place and listened to their conversation. The visitor was irritatingly chipper. They said something about sleep being “super important” when her grandmother said that Arisa was taking a nap. Arisa rolled her eyes. She hated people putting up fronts like that. She lost interest and returned to her room.

Inside Arisa moved to open her window immediately and let the breeze envelope her. For the first time all day, she felt ok. Not good, but ok. Everything was null. She could hear the wind chime tinkling outside, the sweet sound prompting Arisa to do something she hadn’t in a while. 

Next to her desk, covered in a purple dust cover, was a keyboard. Arisa whipped it off and powered it up, her fingers lingering over the keys for a moment before she launched into playing a piece she remembered learning with Tae back at the start of middle school. She hadn’t been practicing at all in recent months but her fingers still danced over the keys like she’d never taken a break. It was a heart-breaking refrain anyway, but as she played all she could think about was everything she had lost; her friends, her health, her normal everyday life. It had all disappeared; even the piano had almost been taken from her. She was angry. She was exhausted. She wanted everything to go back to how it had been in middle school, but it couldn’t. It would never be like that again and at the realisation of this Arisa finally let the tears she’d been holding back all day spill over. She cried without noise, no wails or sobs. She just let the tears fall until they dried up. Then she covered her keyboard back up and laid down on top her bed, tired out from a day of overwhelming stress, falling asleep in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So it's been... 3 months since I posted the first chapter. Yikes... I didn't intend to take that long off between chapters but I guess that's just how life is sometimes. I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of 'If'! Going forwards each chapter will alternate between Kasumi and Arisa's points-of-view, but this will probably be the only one that covers the same events. These first two are introductory chapters to this Poppin' Party-less world so from here on out the real story can begin haha.
> 
> And next chapter, Kasumi and Arisa will actually meet! This is a Kasuari fic, I promise!


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